


tape to tape

by antijosh



Series: ice ice baby [2]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Coming Out, Couch Cuddles, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hockey, M/M, Sports Journalist Jae, author admits she doesn't know how verb tenses work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-06 22:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antijosh/pseuds/antijosh
Summary: tape to tape (hockey): a pass that lands perfectly on your teammate's bladeor, jae and brian in their post-playoffs domestic bliss.





	tape to tape

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iwillalwaysbelieve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillalwaysbelieve/gifts).



> there were some excellent questions asked at the end of sitting on a shooting star and i just,,,,couldn't resist this small sequel, if it can even be called that. i rlly liked exploring more of their lives in this verse so thank you to iwillalwaysbelieve for prompting me to do so!! i hope you enjoy~ also the final 1/3 of this fic was written w [lay your head on me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yDDB9uCSGe4) on loop so 10/10 wld recommend listening as you read

“Yo,” Jae announces as he comes in the front door with a bang, accompanied by the rush of cold air from outside despite the calendar proclaiming that _its May, for God’s sake_.

“Hey,” Brian replies from his spot on the couch, sparing Jae a cursory glance and smile before training his eye back on the TV again.

“What’s on?” Jae asks, unwinding that familiar red scarf from around his neck and hanging it on the hook Brian had put on the closet door just for that purpose.

“The game,” Brian replies simply, knowing that Jae will know exactly what he’s talking about.

Predictably, Jae groans. “I don’t understand why you’re watching it Brian, you’re literally there. That’s you, the hot guy in the number 19 jersey.”

“Shhh,” Brian chides good naturedly, turning up the volume so he can hear the announcer over his boyfriend’s complaints. “And I have a helmet on during games, you can’t even tell I’m hot.”

“Well I see you without your helmet all the time, so I’m qualified to say so,” Jae refutes, dropping his bag by the table before plopping all 182 cm of him on the couch next to Brian. Brian scoots over to accommodate, lifting an arm so Jae can rest his head on Brian’s shoulder, just how they both like it. Jae still shudders, cold hands finding the hem of Brian’s tee shirt and sneaking under it till he can splay them out across Brian’s tummy.

Brian yelps, stomach tensing and drawing away, which makes Jae whine. “Canada is so damn cold,” he complains, making that what feels like the thousandth time he’s said it in this week alone.

“Get your blanket,” Brian laughs, but he’s the one pulls it off the back of the couch for Jae anyway. It’s an ugly thing, big and red and covered in cartoon moose, but it’s fleece and just about the only thing that stops Jae from treating Brian like a personal space heater. Not that Brian actually minds all that much—actually, he kinda loves it. 

Once he’s maneuvered himself so that the blanket covers as much surface area as possible, Jae lets out a big yawn, breath fanning hot across Brian’s neck. “Gross,” Brian says even though he doesn’t really care, and Jae just hums in reply, settling just a little closer. On screen, Brian makes a neat pass to Jaebum, who just barely manages to scrape the puck into the goal past the opposing team. Brian makes mental notes as he watches; if he’d moved a bit to the left, it would have been easier for Jaebum. If he moved up after the pass, he could have blocked a member of the other team better. As much as Sungjin likes to say their team doesn’t know how to learn anything new, they’re all like this—Brian knows that all of them watch the footage of their games, thinking about everything they could have done differently.

“It was a solid pass,” Jae says, and Brian just presses his lips together.

“Could have been better,” he replies, and it’s true, but Jae sighs anyway.

“But you know how it ends, so why overthink it?” he asks, and it’s a fair question. Brian could probably overthink each play all on his own, without watching the game, but he’s got a bit of additional motivation this time around.

“Shh, I’m waiting for the good part,” Brian replies, and Jae rolls his eyes (though he doesn’t complain anymore after that).

Jae offers his commentary as the game goes on, and Brian can’t help but feel a swell of pride at how much Jae’s learned about the sport since he first came to Canada. Brian’s not really used to taking on the role of teacher, but Jae learns remarkably fast whether it’s the rules of hockey or Korean grammar. The first time they had a coherent conversation in Korean about something other than food, Brian nearly cried. He really did cry a little the last time they went skating and he got to stand off to the side as Jae skated lazy loops around the rink all by himself, no longer afraid of falling. But maybe Brian’s just a sap like that. 

Onscreen, the ref calls an offside, and that snaps Brian’s attention back to the game. He briefly looks down at Jae, feeling just a little pleased with himself when he sees Jae’s eyes trained on the screen.

“If anyone shouldn’t care to watch this, it’s you,” he points out, a smile on his face. “You were actually there to see the whole thing.”

“Yeah but I was looking at you the entire time,” Jae defends brusquely, not bothering to look up at Brian (which is ironic considering his words). “So if I watch it again I can actually focus on what’s going on.”

Brian snorts but doesn’t say anything else, just allows the two of them to watch in silence as the game progresses. Their opponents score twice, but then Toronto does again, leaving them tied at the end of the second period. The screen shows Sungjin’s worried face, gloved hand running over his shaved head as his brow furrows in concentration. Brian does his best to imitate Sungjin just because he knows Jae will think it’s funny, and it works—Jae laughs, bright and twinkling but with enough force to jostle Brian’s torso. Once he’s calmed himself enough, Jae tries it too, but the intense wrinkles that form around his chin when he tries to make the face send Brian into a fit of giggles.

“Cute,” he wheezes as soon as he manages to get some oxygen in again, and Jae gives him a proud smile in return.

The game’s back on now, and Brian turns his attention back to where he’s moving on the ice, watches as his number 19 jersey maneuvers around the other players with a sort of graceful ease. If there’s one thing he’s proud of, it’s his own skating. On screen, Jackson crashes into the wall, and Brian snorts. He hadn’t even noticed that during the game. Jae snickers too, even though he probably caught the collision live.

Nothing interesting happens after that for a while. The puck passes back and forth, but both teams are getting worried and pushing themselves even harder, so no goals are scored. Jae’s weight is warm and heavy against him, and with the lull in gameplay Brian finds his eyelids drooping, slipping closer and closer to sleep. Before he knows it, though, there’s a slender finger jamming itself into Brian’s side.

“Brian. Brian. Brian,” Jae repeats as he pokes. When Brian opens his eyes again, Jae drops a peck on his cheek. “You’re about to miss the best part, babe.”

“I’m awake,” Brian tries to say, but it comes out sounding more like “‘Mm ‘wake,” which Jae seems to find funny. Brian uses the hand not resting on Jae’s shoulder to rub at his eyes, and when they finally focus on the TV again he’s able to recognize what’s going on immediately. Seeing the play still feels like it did when he was out on the ice, but Brian still watches in wonder as Jaebum scores the winning goal with just seconds to spare. Jae jostles Brian’s side in celebration, but Brian just groans.

“Seeee,” Jae drawls, “nothing new, you already knew you won.”

“What if I’m waiting for what comes after?” Brian quips, though it’s not quite as sharp as he’d like since he’s still a little drowsy. It shuts Jae up just the same though, and he settles back into Brian’s side with a sigh of acceptance.

On screen, there’s chaos and cheering and Brian struggles to follow his own figure as he gets caught in the dog pile, their whole team skating into one huge group hug and essentially crushing Bernard against the wall of the rink. Coach Park and the rest of their staff come flooding onto the ice, and Brian catches sight of the familiar red scarf, right at the edge of the rink.

He knows what happens next, but Brian’s still enraptured anyways—he hasn’t watched this at all, even when the clips started circulating online, though he knows Jae doesn’t share his sentiments. Their dog pile starts to splinter, players splitting off to hug those who have just made it onto the ice. There’s a clear moment of realization in which on screen Brian finds Jae, and Brian feels a swell of warmth in his chest as he watches himself skate over to Jae in his red scarf.

Thinking back, Brian can’t clearly remember everything that was going through his mind at the time. Everything was a rush, noise and movement around him clouding his perception until he zeroed in on Jae. Brian thinks he was intending to just hug Jae, but Brian’s never really been the best with impulse control. The cameras on them catch the way Jae’s lips part as Brian approaches, probably intended to congratulate him, but then their view of Jae is blocked entirely as Brian practically skates into him. Brian remembers wrapping his arms around Jae’s waist, thicker than usual with his padded coat on, and he remembers the excitement and he remembers—he remembers the kiss. It’s obvious the cameramen weren’t expecting it because the angle of the shot changes abruptly, but the new shot shows Jae clutching at Brian’s jersey, face obscured but still clearly Jae, at least to anyone who knows their stuff. And for those that don’t—still clearly a man. 

Beside Brian, Jae tenses ever so slightly, just like he did when Brian kissed him on the ice. Brian spares him a concerned glance, but Jae’s eyes are glued to the TV, even though Brian knows he’s watched these clips before. He settles for giving Jae’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and Jae looks up at him, face softening into a smile as soon as he sees Brian’s expression.

“This is the best part,” he says, and Brian smiles back at him.

“Yeah,” he replies. “It is.”

On screen, the two of them have pulled apart, Jae pushing Brian’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes as he says something excitedly that Brian can’t catch through the TV or remember from when it happened. Clearly he understood at the time, though, because he gives Jae a bright, bright smile, hands coming up to cup Jae’s cheeks. Sometime since the win he’d shed his gloves, and Brian can see his fingers were already pink from the cold. 

“We’re kinda cute,” Jae comments, pointing to the screen like Brian isn’t already looking at it.

“Very cute,” Brian corrects, turning his head to press his nose to the top of Jae’s fluffy hair.

The commentators are speaking quickly, and Brian only bothers to listen for the snatches of “first gay hockey player” and his own name, which makes his heart skip a little.

He remembers, after the game, when the excitement had dulled to a thrum as they cleaned up in the locker room. Then, everyone had jumped on him, slapping his back in congratulations. When the crowd thinned, it was Jaebum that was left, arms crossed over his chest.

“You didn’t mean to do it, did you,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

Brian shook his head anyway. “Not at all.”

“Do you regret it?” Jaebum asked, and that’s when Brian had to stop and think, because it didn’t even occur to him that he might regret doing that.

Still, he came to a conclusion quickly. “No,” he answered, lifting his chin. “Not at all.”

That’s when Jaebum’s face softened, a small smile forming on his lips. “I’m happy for you,” he said, “and proud of you, too. For whatever that’s worth.”

“Thanks,” Brian replied simply, because that’s really all there was to say.

Now, Jae asks him the same thing. “Did you mean to come out like that? So publicly?” He pulls back so he can look up at Brian, the blanket rustling with his movement. Brian keeps his arm on Jae’s shoulder so he can’t go too far, and he shakes his head.

“No, but I don’t regret doing it either,” he answers honestly. “Do you wish I hadn’t done it?”

“No,” Jae echoes, cheek pockets puffing out adorably. “I think it was perfect.”

“I think you’re perfect,” Brian says, grinning as he pokes at Jae’s cheek to break the serious atmosphere.

“Of course,” Jae replies flippantly, a playful smirk on his face as he closes his eyes and presents his cheek for a kiss. Brian just pokes it again, and Jae tickles Brian’s side in revenge. When Brian shrinks away, Jae takes advantage of the shift in positions so he can fully drape his long torso over Brian, using Brian’s collarbone as his new pillow.

“This is what we’re doing now?” Brian asks, and Jae shudders at the sensation of Brian’s chest rumbling beneath his ear.

“Mhm,” he hums in reply. “Now put something on that isn’t hockey, I see you fools play every day.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Brian grumbles as he reaches for the remote, and Jae seems to sag a little, relaxing even more into Brian.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bribeombot)


End file.
